


Kisses Where the Sky is Kept

by LittleAprilFlowers



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A late birthday present for my boi, F/F, Fluff, Rarepair I guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 16:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14772977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleAprilFlowers/pseuds/LittleAprilFlowers
Summary: Hawke manages to steal a moment of Cassandra’s time, and a few other things beside. Hopeless romantic fluff.





	Kisses Where the Sky is Kept

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myheadisapumpkin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myheadisapumpkin/gifts).



Marian Hawke catches Cassandra late into the night, a few days before she and her twin brother Garrett are due to leave Skyhold and make the long gruelling journey to the Warden fortress in the distant Anderfels. The battle at Adamant had been a shit show from start to finish – and it had cost more lives than it had been worth, Marian considers, thinking of their friend Alistair who was left behind in the Fade to a fate unknown. It had weighed heavily on many more people than first appeared. But this trip to the Warden headquarters might ensure the same does not happen to future Wardens, even after the threat of Corypheus and his false Calling was hopefully eradicated, and that would surely be worthwhile.

‘Seeker Pentaghast? If I might have a word?’ Marian asks, settling into the vacant barstool beside hers and signalling to the dwarven barkeep for a flagon of ale. Other than the two women, there are a handful of Inquisition scouts in the Herald’s Rest tonight, alongside the Qunari mercenary and his gang of misfits drinking in merriment in a corner.

Cassandra lifts her gaze and is visibly startled by one of Kirkwall’s Champions suddenly appearing beside her. She nods and looks away, but not before Marian notes the pink rising in her cheeks. Was she embarrassed? Or was it just from the Nevarran wine bottle which sat freshly emptied on the bar in front of her?

‘What can I do for you, lady Champion?’ Cassandra inquiries, still apparently not daring to meet her eyes.

‘Please, Marian will do just fine. I wanted to pick your brain about something - you have a lot of friends here in Skyhold, don’t you? But I understand you and Varric didn’t along all too well at first.’

Cassandra huffs. ‘I regret to admit we did not. He lied to me about where you and your brother were before the Conclave. I thought at that time we would need your assistance; even more so following the assassination of the Divine. We needed leaders for the Inquisition.’

‘And we asked him to lie for us. I can only apologise. But I’m sure you understand better than anyone the importance of loyalty to a cause. And Varric’s cause is family.’ Marian explains, a fond smile pulling at her mouth when she thinks of the dwarf and their other assortment of companions as such.

The Seeker nods. ‘I can understand that. I believe I have come to understand him as well, as time has gone on. As well as anyone can hope to understand him. He has become a steadfast ally, and a friend too, dare I admit it.’

‘I promise I won’t tell him you said that.’ Marian teases.

‘Thank the Maker.’ Cassandra murmurs, tracing out a carved pattern in the wood of the bar with the tip of her fingers. ‘And blast this wine. I’m lucky he was not here to catch me saying such things.’

Marian laughs, and then takes a hearty swig from her drink. Even the ale here seems to taste better than anywhere else despite it being so far away and secluded in the mountains. She wondered for a moment if it was brewed here in Skyhold. When an army was supported with ale like this, no wonder morale in the Inquisition was so bloody high.

The pair fall into an amicable silence as Marian drinks and Cassandra drains the very last drops of the wine from her own bottle. The Chargers and their leader cheer over some battle story which is mostly inaudible from where the two women sit in the tavern.

‘Can I tell you something, Marian?’ Cassandra says softly after a few minutes of quiet.

‘Will it be something else I can’t tell Varric?’

‘Perhaps.’ Cassandra admits with a rueful smile, and that grabs Marian’s attention instantly. ‘I was jealous of him, when we first arrived here. He had told me your story. A lot of it had been left out of his book, which I had read. But many more in Skyhold wanted to hear it directly from him.’

‘You were jealous because he was constantly being mobbed by his fans?’

‘Because he was surrounded by people who wanted to hear him and who cared about what he had to say. I had very few people like that, very few… friends. I still do. There is Leliana, but we have only worked together and are somewhat more professional with one another in that respect. And she has had Josephine to confide in since Haven. The commander and I know each other personally even less than that.’

‘And the Herald?’

‘Inquisitor Lavellan and I have become good friends, yes. I have confided much in him.’ Cassandra agrees, then looks down at the floor. ‘But it took time to see him as trustworthy, let alone as a friend after the Conclave. And loneliness is a difficult burden to shake.’

‘Varric was lonely too, even with all those people around him. Lonely and afraid.’ Marian reveals, her voice soft and sad, ‘He said as much to us in his letters. Garrett and I wanted so badly to meet him here and help as soon as we could, but he insistedthat we stay away. He’s lost so much. All of us have by now. He was scared he might lose us too. But he was lonely.’

‘Maker, and I was awful to him. At the time I thought he deserved it.’

As Cassandra ponders this, Marian takes her in properly for perhaps the first time since she had met her. The scars on her face from training and battle did not at all draw from her beauty. Her eyes bright and thoughtful, her lips soft and pink. Her ebony hair in a crowning braid with virtually no loose strands – it occurs to Marian that she had never seen the Seeker with her hair down the whole time she and Garrett had been at Skyhold. She wonders what that would look like, if Cassandra ever let her hair down at all, both literally and metaphorically speaking.

‘Is there something else you wanted to say?’ Cassandra asks, noting the Champion’s silence and turning to meet Hawke’s icy blue eyes with her dark ones. Whether she intends to stare so intently, with her lips parted and her proud brow drawn down in question, it has quite the effect on Marian.

‘Step outside with me a moment, would you?’ she suggests.

Cassandra does not ask why she would make such a request. She follows Marian outside without a word of questioning, behind the tavern to the training dummies she so often could be found sparring with. The night air is stark in comparison to the firelit warmth of the Herald’s Rest, and Cassandra shivers even though she has grown somewhat accustomed to it. It was easy to forget when the sun was high and the birds cartwheeled over the busy courtyards during the day that they stood on top of the world, miles from anywhere else among the snowy peaks. But seeing Skyhold lit in pale blue moonlight as a winter wind ripples through the battlements was reminder aplenty.

Their positioning behind the already mostly empty tavern affords them some privacy. Marian shelters under a window which juts out from the brick, shadowed even from the moon high in the sky above them, and gestures wordlessly for Cassandra to join her in the alcove. Confused, Cassandra does as bid, and is suddenly seized at the shoulders by two swift hands and manoeuvred against the wall, her body pinned to the bricks by Marian’s deceivingly strong arms. In any other situation she would have fought off such a move, but the wine had dulled even her blade-sharp senses. She offered little resistance as Marian’s face came close, their breath mingling in puffs of wispy steam in the cold air, the handles of her blades on her back glinting in the low light.

‘Tell me.’

‘What?’ Cassandra chokes out.

‘Tell me if this isn’t what you want.’ Marian says, elaborating further, her voice no more than a ragged whisper close to Cassandra’s face, ‘I need to know. But I can’t help myself. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.’

‘I—What do you—’ Cassandra stammers, at a loss for words. She blinks at Marian in the darkness before her thoughts gradually click into place. Flushing an even darker pink than before, she swallows deeply, and her tongue darts out across her bottom lip before she responds more coherently. ‘Oh. I see. Then… don’t go. Stay.’

Marian needs no further prompting. She closes the already short distance between them and finally kisses Cassandra. She leads and Cassandra follows, lips hesitant but pliant andwilling. Their mouths are warm and pleasant against the biting cold of the night. Marian’s light armour allows them to press close, to feel one another together as they kiss. Her hands release Cassandra’s shoulders; one drops to her hip and the other cups the side of her neck, cradling her head as the kiss deepens to a more languid and exploring one. Cassandra in turn grasps at Marian’s waist, holding her close, and her arms slowly draw around to keep her there.

Marian can now taste the wine in Cassandra’s mouth, and in turn she can taste the ale Marian had been drinking. Already heady from the alcohol, the two women are breathless now, and they draw back from the kiss to press their heads together and pant, giddy smiles plastered across their faces.

Cassandra huffs with amusement. ‘That was….’

‘Good?’ Marian asks hopefully.

‘Unexpected. But good, yes.’

‘I can see you down there, you know, horny things.’ Sera announces from above. Both women startle and lift their heads to spot the rogue dangling out of the stained glass above, pleased as punch to have spied on the pent-up Seeker. She snorts at their guilty expressions, lifting a finger and then springing it in an oddly suggestive manner. ‘Maybe now you’ll get to snap a few of her petticoat strings loose, Hawke. And about time too - boing!’

The elf descends into delighted snorts and giggles which echo out from inside as she disappears back inside the tavern. If Cassandra had seemed flushed before, now she was beetroot red, and furious.

But Marian laughs and presses her gently back against the bricks. ‘Don’t mind her. I thought we’d be well hidden here. Perhaps if we take this back to my room? More private than your little nook in the smithy, I’m sure.’

‘What if more people see us?’

‘Then I’ll have to kiss you in front of every bloody soldier, scout, and scholar in Skyhold, won’t I?’


End file.
